


Catlyn Ollivander and the Mana Potion

by Clueless59



Series: Catlyn Ollivander [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Gryffindor, Half-Human, Half-Vampires, Hogwarts, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, The Golden Trio Era (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26408917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clueless59/pseuds/Clueless59
Summary: Join Catlyn Ollivander, the adopted daughter of the famous wand maker Garrick Ollivander, as she struggles through her first year of Hogwarts and deals with her miserable excuse for a social life, her own self worth issues, and an unexpected side effect of being born half-dead.All rights go to J.K. Rowling except for certain characters, ideas, and story lines.
Series: Catlyn Ollivander [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1919497
Comments: 6
Kudos: 3





	1. My upload scheduled

I will try to post once a week. I'm very open to constructive criticism and am working every day to improve my skills as a writer. I'm still in high school so I have homework and other commitments that might get in the way of uploading. I also encourage conversation and questions about why I did things the way I did. (I appreciate gematrical and spelling corrections) 

All that being said I hope you'll enjoy this story. Fair warning, this story contains mild to major depression as well as torture, violence, sexual themes (not in the first book there 11), minor LGBTQ+ content (For all you homophobes out there that care about that), and rape.


	2. Prologue

\----Quick note, the line across the page means I'm switching POVs or doing a time jump, Things in * for Characters will be when their signing and things in ' will be when Catlyn's using her notebook.

"Beep, Beep, Beep," Yells my alarm, screaming at me and consequently waking me from the nightmares of sleep. I roll to the face the alarm, still half asleep, only to see a sight that kicks me right out of bed; it's 05:30.

I rush to hit snooze as I mentally curse myself for the stupidity of my sleep schedule. The peaceful silence that follows the buzzing of the alarm hangs in the room like the dust in the air. I sigh in relief after the expected yell of Father's tired anger never comes.

Lying back down, I close my eyes to fall back into peaceful slumber; not that my slumber was ever peaceful. The drowsiness I once had is replaced by the buzzing of thoughts. Curse my ability to wake up easily! I yell to myself as I look around the room, not wanting to get out of bed yet.

Light rays shine through the windows across the room, unnecessarily illuminating my dark blue painted room. My dark oak wood desk shines from under the windows and matches the four bookshelf, filled with books ranging from The Art Of War to The Cat in The Hat, that line the walls of that side of the room.

Separating the two sides of the room is the door to the hallway. On the other side of the room sits my wood framed bed shoved onto the wall with my door. Opposing that wall stands my golden handled wardrobe.

Between the two sits the door to my bathroom and my busted up nightstand that holds my alarm clock, music player, and notepad. Finally pick myself up from my purple sheets, I move into my duck themed bathroom after putting on my gold circular glasses and grabbing a change of clothes.

Slipping off my bunny branded fuzzy pajamas, I invite myself into the freezing cold water of the shower. I calmly wash myself as I let the water take me, knowing that I have all the time in the world. I scowl as my soapy hands reach my stomach.

Even if I close my eyes I can still feel the scars and cuts that pepper my deathly pale skin. Ruining the mood, I quickly finish my shower as I turn the water off to dry myself off with a towel.  
After having to raping the towel around my body three times, the towel hangs down to right above my knees.

I start to poke and prod at my face, after using the step stool to reach the mirror. Keeping it simple, I wash my face and do my white hair. Parting it down the middle, it frizzes out with stupid waves down to my chin. Narrowing my eyes, I grab my straightener and beat my hair straight, lengthening it to past my shoulders.

Moving into my room, I rush to put on my oversized black pullover and blue faded jeans, not wanting to get drawn in by the sight of my body. Looking into the full length mirror hanging from my door, I immediately fail. Crimson eyes stare back at me as I fiddle with my hair. Spinning around, I look to see if any of my scars can be seen.

My hand moves to rest on my hidden brand singed into my skin above my heart, where my collar bone is. I'm too short, I'm so skinny, I need to lose weight, why do I have stupid wavy hair, your such a cowed for hiding your fangs, your a monster.

Intrusive thoughts sprint through my head like a cheetah chasing its prey. Slapping my cheeks with my hands, I snap out of my stupid pity trance as I grab my pen and notepad. My black socks protect my feet as I step out from my brown carpeted room and onto the mahogany floorboards of the hallway. Walking left on the balls of my feet, I pass Father's room and move to the metal spiral staircase. Going a floor down, I walk off of the staircase and onto the second level.

The floor is split into parts with only a half-wall with a ledge separating them. on the side with the staircase is a kitchen with marble counter tops and light brown wood cabinets. On the other side sits tall floor to ceiling windows, comfy dark brown couches, and a bricked fireplace.

Moving into the kitchen, I open the fridge to grab the blood pack on the bottom shelf and move one from the fridge to the shelf. Why does Father Insist on my blood being on a specific shelf? What's so wrong with the blood being next to food? It's not like the blood pack's open. I ponder as I move into the living room.

"Good morning Catty," a fine posh accent greets me in an extremely formal tone. Looking to find the voice I spot Father sitting in an armchair in the far corner. With a cup of tea in one hand and the Daily Profit in the other, his calm demeanor and glazed look in his grey eyes baffled me. His fine white hair runs down to his shoulders as his wrinkled face lets out a smirk.

*Good marrow Mr. Ollivander, you say it's quite an outlandish sight seeing you look so chipper at this time. Pray tell, what is the meaning of this?* I sign, mocking him as I put on a smile. Most people find it off putting that he's my Father, considering the age difference. Then again that would mea- Wait, don't think about it! Eww! Then again I'm adopted so that, image, didn't happen.

"It's getting closer to the school year so I need to start opening sooner." He says with a chuckle, understanding my humor, as he takes a sip of his tea, his hand shaking.

*Smart,* I sign, remembering the line we get if we don't open early as I take a sip from my blood pack. Now I remember why I love to get up at this time, the rare quiet of the city, the gentle glow of the morning sun, and the damp feeling in the air gives it just a great sense of peace.

"Speaking of witch, have you gotten all your school supplies yet?" He asks, knowing the answer. I think back fondly to when I got my letter for Hogwarts. I immediately wrote back yes and read it so much that I can recite it by memory.

*No. But I have a month to get the rest and we live right above the shops to get them,* I remind him as I finish up my blood pack. *When do you want me to help out today?* Ever since I got my wand balancing license I've been helping out at Father's wand shop.

"I think in the morning because it will be more hectic then," He reasons as he turns a page, reminding me of something.

*That reminds me, when can I make my own wand?* I ask eyes sparkling in excitement as Father chokes on his tea.

"Would you look at the time! It's about time to open, wouldn't you agree?" Father side steps the question as he folds down the paper and gets out of his chair. A soft chuckle escapes my lips as I start running to the stairs.

"Don't forget to grab a mask!" Father shouts as I change directions to start going up the stairs instead. Quickly running to my room, I grab a random hard black fabric face mask and meet Father inside the shop after punting on brown loafers.

Stepping out from the door, I stand on the balcony type area that overlooks the shop. Lights already on, the wand shop may be small, but I think it has its charm to it. I admire the tall shelves filled with wands stretching up to the ceiling as I walk down the curved staircase seemingly built into the bookcases.

The bottom floor was pretty bare, with only a desk near the back, a stool in the middle, and a bench against the wall with the door and display. Looking around the floor, you couldn't tell that two people work here considering all the wands sprawled on the floor and the shelves with no organization system, yet there are.

There are a lot of wands we have to try in a day so we never have time to clean up, not that we need to. Somehow Father always knows where each wand is; a trait I picked up after a while. Grabbing a pile of wands, I start cleaning up a little as Father moves the sign to say open with the flick of his wand.

*Showoff,* I sign, earning a snicker, as I grab a broom and start to sweep. The wait for a customer doesn't last long as the bell chimes, causing me to sit up from the latter.

"Good morning," Father greets as the customer walks into the store.


	3. Wand fitting

A chime comes from the door as I push it open and enter Ollivander's. The shop on the outside was shabby and worn down but the inside was anything but. The wood of the floor and shelves around the room reflect the light coming from the candle lit chandler made the small shop seem warm and comforting. The old man behind the desk smiled at us warmly, like an old friend.

"Good Afternoon," The old man behind the desk greets us in a soft voice as he stands up. Looking around in awe, my eyes are drawn to a rolling ladder. Following up the ladder, my eyes are met with a pair of red ones, as we move into the middle of the room. The German looking girl sitting on the ladder seemed to be younger than me, but her pale skin and soft white hair gave a different impression. I try to get an impression of her emotion but the black face mask makes that difficult. Her eyes seemed to be full of wisdom yet youth crept into the background. Her cheeks were almost certainly hollow and the bags that hugged her face tightly have me a haunting feeling in my gut; Like she was a predictor, and I was her pray. Yet I can't help feel like I want be be drawn in, like I want to be eaten. Her eyes meet mine as I look away with a blush spreading across my cheeks.

"So little one, what are you here for?" The man asks me, knocking me out of my trance and causing me to jump as he seemingly teleport's in front of me. Looking around, I find that my parents sitting on a bench behind me.

"Uh, Hello sorry I'm here to get a wand," I respond as I fiddle with my bracelet on my wrist.

"Ah wand fitting! The first step into becoming a true wizard, muggle-born or not," He tells me, somehow knowing my worries as he starts stroking his chin. "Catlyn come down here," his eyes twinkle as the topic moved to wands. The girl on the ladder slides down and joins his side. Her short stature becomes apparent as she stands, just barely reaching my chest.

'Hello, nice to meet you. My name is Catlyn Ollivander. I cannot speak but I assure you I am capable of helping you today,' Catlyn writes on a notepad after taking it out of a pocket in her pullover. Excitement rises in me as my questions become too loud for my brain.

"What's it like being brought up as a wizard? Why are your eyes red? Is the reason why you can't because of magic?" I say quickly, slowly inching towards her as her eyes grow cold and dead. She slowly backs away as I can only imagine a frown forms on her face.

"Hermoine!" Mom scolds, breaking me out of my curiosity.

"Sorry for that," I apologize, backing away and sitting down on the stool. Instead of responding, Catlyn turns to her Mr. Ollivander and makes symbols with her hands. She doesn't seem like that bad of a person, just a little cold.  
"You will be doing the wand fitting," He tells her as she stands there for a second. Eyes of determination appear on her face as she turns to me. Feeling like a specimen in a jar, I look down in embarrassment.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I stomp on the ladder, alerting Father as I feel three warm bodies approaching the shop door. "Good afternoon," Father greets a brown haired muggle family as they walk into the store. Looking down from the top of the ladder, my eyes are met with three people, a straight black haired woman, a short brown haired man and a frizzy brown haired girl my age. As she gazes at the store in bewilderment and amazement. Most of the today I just grab wands for Father, sometimes I got to balance and clean a wand but not often.

"Hello Mister?" The man, presumably the father greets, looking at his chest for a name tag.

"Ollivander, I assume your muggles?" Father reaches out a hand to him after getting out of behind the desk.

"Is it that obvious?" The woman, probably the mom, takes Father's hand and shakes it.

"You get an eye for it after a while," Father responds, clearly not being used to being called that.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Ollivander. I'm Mickel Granger and this is my wife Jean," They introduce themselves as Father's eyes light up from meeting new people. I don't understand how he's the man that raised me. His personality is completely opposite to me, warm, talkative, and an extrovert of all things. Meanwhile I'd want to stay up here as long as possible until they leave.

My eyes are drawn to the girl as I finally notice her gaze. My eyes lock with her brown ones only for her to look away. What? Does she already think I'm a vampire? Why? Do I look weird? Have my horrid waves returned?

"Come, come, sit," Father offers the parents as he motions to the bench, saving me from drowning in insecurities once again. The parents take him up on his offer, leaving the girl alone.

"So, why are you here little one?" Father asks the girl, getting her attention.

"Uh, Hello sorry I'm here to get a wand," She responds fiddling with the bracelet on her wrist.

"Ah wand fitting! The first step into becoming a true wizard, muggle-born or not," Father responds, knowing that that's most muggleborn's fear. He pauses for a second and gets that look in his eye, like a scheme just unfolded in his mind that went perfectly. He swivels around and looks at me, sending a chill through my spine. "Catlyn come down here," confirming my suspicions.

Sliding down the ladder, I hope next to Father and give him a look of annoyance and a slight pout. I'm once again reminded of my short height of 3'9" as I move closer to the girl. Whipping out my notepad, I write the rehearsed greeting and hand it to the fuzzball. Her eyes light up as she gets this hungry expression on her face, like she just saw a person after not eating for so long.

"What's it like being brought up as a wizard? Why are your eyes red? Is the reason why you can't because of magic?" With every blur of a word that comes out of her mouth she inches closer and closer. Already pushing it with the distance apart we originally were, I inch backwards in response.

Why yes stranger! I can't make a sound due to a fucking magic symbol branded onto my chest like I'm some slave! I respond in anger in my head as I slip back into my sea of insecurities.

"Hermione!" Mrs. Granger scolds the girl as her eyes widen and she takes a step back. My breathing returns to normal as I put a hand to my chest to find my heart racing at the speed of a regular person.

"Sorry for that," Hermione apologies as blush forms on her face.

*You're really making me do this, aren't you?* I sign to Father as he nods.

"You'll be doing the wand fitting," Father responds. I've never liked doing wand fittings. I don't know why I just don't really like it. It's not like I'm bad at it; wand fittings require you to look into the person and try and find a wand that matches them. Then again like the stereotype I am, I probably hate it because it's the most social part of the job.

'Can you extend your wand arm?' I write to Hermione as she hesitantly raises her right arm. Getting on task, I do the standard measurements and get an estimation of around 10 inches. I've been thinking that trying to deduce the wood type for the person could cut down the time it takes to do a wand fitting.

She doesn't seem to be rude because she didn't care about my feelings, no she just didn't have the restraint to hold herself back. So she's definitely not a Hufflepuff or Slytherin. The quest for knowledge leans toward Ravenclaw but the stupid bravery of getting on a half-vampire's bad side definitely makes her a Gryffendor.

The most common woods for a Gryffindor would be Ebony, Apple, Sycamore, and Vine. She seems to have confidence in herself but she gets shot down easily so not Ebony. She has her charms but I wouldn't call them great so not Apple. I have it narrowed down to Sycamore or Vine. Wait Vine! I know it's not common but I might as well try.

"Father can you snuff out the candles?" I sign to him once I stop circling her as he raises an eyebrow. Trusting me, he waves his wand and the store grows dark. Scouring the selves, my eyes fall upon a wand box lightly glowing at the top.

"Can you please grab the stiff 10 and 3/4th inch vine wood wand with dragon heartstring core?" I sign to Father as a cheeky smile spreads across my face.

"Who's the showoff now?" Father signs back, not wanting to show him being snarky to the customers as the candles light back up. With a flick of his wand, the once glowing box shoots toward me. Catching it, I hand it to Hermione as a mixed expression appears on her face.

Taking the wand, she swishes it around as purple sparks appear on the end of it and the wand case in my hand begins to want to be free.

"That's a 10 ¾" Vine wood, dragon heartstring wand, extremely stiff, a very powerful combination indeed. I'm excited to see the magic you perform with it," Father tells Hermione with genuine enthusiasm. Her eyes light up at the words as she runs to her parents.

"Did you hear that?" Hermione squeaks excitedly to her parents as they move towards us.

"Yes honey, we're very proud of you," Mrs, Granger tells her with a head pat as she turns to face Father, "How much will that be?"

"First I need to administer a trace on the wand," Father tells them, holding a hand out for the wand.

"What's that?" Hermione questions, tilting her head and clutching the wand more tightly.

"It's a magic spell that tells the ministry when you use magic around muggles or outside of school until you're seventeen," Father explains patiently as Hermione gives the wand back to him.

'That will be seven gallons please, the gold ones,' I write to the parents. Mrs. Granger looks through her bag and pulls the money out. Taking the money, I quickly move to put it into the desk before Hermione can talk to me. I mean her wand's wood indicates hidden depth to her but I don't really want to put up with the surface level at the moment.

"Here you go," Garrick says, handing the wand back to Hermione, "Do you want directions?"

"That would be great!" Mr. Granger sighs, glad that he brought it up.

"Oh and Catlyn," I turning around to face Father, "You're shift's just about to end, you can end early if you want," he explains as relief, from not having to deal with new people, washes over me.

*Thank you,* I sign to him as I watch Hermione out of the corner of my eye. She's still watching me with a mix of anger and disappointment that paints her face. And she hates me, great! I think to myself as I exit the shop whale putting the white headphones around my neck on, letting the music fill my ears.


	4. Family

Queen dances into my ears as the door of the shop shuts behind me. Stepping out onto Diagon Alley, my head begins to pound like a club hitting my head over and over. A deep pit forms in my stomach like I haven't eaten in months. My fangs start to feel uncomfortable, just itching to be sunken into a warm neck. My head pounds as my eyes switch to seeing their veins.

I stop myself from lunging into the crowd as I slowly inhale through my nose and out through my mouth. That's it, nice and steady. I start to increase the volume to distract myself. It's been a while since I've had an attack that powerful. Finally having my hunger under control, I realize that I'm collapsed on the side of the street packed with people. I must look so weird. Panic jolts through me as I put my hand on my mouth to feel my mask still there.

Dusting myself off, I join the crowd as I can feel eyes stabbing me with their gaze. Everyone's probably watching. They must have noticed my freak out. If I didn't just calm myself from a hunger attack I would be having a panic attack by now. Maneuvering myself through the crowded street, I make my way into Flourish and Blotts.

"Excuse me. Do you know where Mr. Mulpepper's Apothecary is," A girl asks me immediately as I enter, stumbling over the shop's name. Her accent is clearly American with an extremely slight hint of Irish. The question startles me as I jump a little and have a mild panic attack. The girl seemed to be my age, yet her height was the same as that Hermione girl. Then again, who isn't taller than me?

A valley girl type outfit hung off her slim figure witch matched her soft facial features. Golden eyes glowed at me with a sense of warmth yet a mild panic. Her beautifully straight golden brown hair ran down to her lower back. The color of her eyes contrasted perfectly with her slightly dark skin, hinting at Southern American descent.

Getting over the shock of being asked a question, I reach into my pocket only to find my notepad gone. Panic returns as I try to make gestures to show that I can't speak. Her brow wrinkles as she stares at me even more intensely. The stare causes me to completely freeze. My mind turns blank as all conscious thought leaves it. My body starts to carry me forward without realizing it as I push past the girl and continue into the store.

"Hey!" The girl turns to yell at me, hair turning a red tint, only for an angel to appear.

"Do you need some help?" Zack asks the girl, moving in between me and the girl.

"Yes, thank you! I need to get to Mr. Mulpepper's Apothecary," The girl tells him, forgetting her anger, as the red tint disappeared.

"Three shops down on the right side," Zack answers with a salesman's smile.

"Thank you!" the girl yells, clearly not getting the fact that we're in a bookstore, as she runs out of the store with her eyes turning even brighter gold.

"You really need to get better at talking to people," Zack taunts moving to behind the counter. I turn my music off and take out my headphones. I'm so glad Father raised me with muggle stuff. I wouldn't know how to live without pens, notepads, music players, and muggle clothes.

'Not all of us can be social butterflies Zackaira,' I joke back, in sign, using his full name to annoy him.

"Well if you're like that then you'll never make friends at Hogwarts," Zack tells me in a joking way but with an underlying tone of actual concern. Zack stands around 4 foot, normal for a 12 year old. His dancing blue eyes contrasted with his short tidy black hair beautifully. His faded red shirt, blue jeans, and brown glasses gave him the perfect look for someone working at a bookstore.

*Shame you won't be there,* I glumly reply, as Zack grabs a cart full of books and heads down a row of shelves.

"I know! I keep asking my parents to be at Hogwarts instead but you know what they say? 'Your a Morisan Zack. Our family has been going to Drumstring for generations. Us living in Britain now and you wanting to go with your friend isn't going to change that!'" Zack rants as he puts the new books on the shelfs.

*Well it is a part of your family history,* I respond as I start putting books up as well, wanting to do something.

"If I wanted to connect to my family history then I would visit. Hogwarts is a much better school."

"Zack! Quit talking to your friend and handle the register," The manager yells, bringing our conversation to a halt.

"Sorry AC, gotta work," Zack apologizes as he scampered off, using his nickname for me and leaving me to browse the shelves. AC's short for albino cat, the excuse I give to everyone about my hair and eyes, and ironically the thing that muggle's use to cool off. Ironic, considering that he had no clue about muggle life. Golden rays shine through the store's windows as my arms struggle to lift the stack of books on to the counter.

"Buying out the store again I see," Zach mocks, making a light blush appear on my face hidden behind both my mask and the stack of books 15 tall.

*I like reading ok,* I meekly sign to Zack as he picks up The Standard Book of Spells grade three.

"You do realize that this is for third years right," Zack teases, knowing perfectly well that I already bought the last two.

"Hey! Don't scare off my highest paying customer," The manager jokingly lectures as he shrinks them down for me. Waving goodbye, I grab the bag of books and leave the store.

Knowing Father, he's probably still open with an empty stomach. I should grab some food for him. It's not like I need human food, I just like the taste of it. My thoughts wander in response to my growling stomach as I swim through the crowd and towards the Leaky Cauldron. The dim lights of Ollivanders wakes me from my thoughts as a pit forms in my stomach not out of hunger. What happened?

Rushing through the crowd, I burst through the unlocked door to find... nothing, just the empty wand shop. Piles of wand boxes are scattered throughout but in their normal way. Still brimming with panic, I dash up the staircases and into the loft. The loft was normal, frighteningly normal. Scouring the room, my eyes land upon Father, sitting in the armchair with a bottle of Firewisky in one hand, and a picture in the other.

My worried eyes scan his stoic face, warmly illuminated by the fire. Unusual glossy eyes stare into the photo. "Oh, I didn't hear you come in," Father says, looking at me with the same glossy eyes. My worry only deepens at his words. He always hears the bell.

"Shame you picked the morning shift today, Harry Potter came in for a wand," His shaky chuckle hangs in the air as the only sound that punctures the silence is the swig of Firewisky. "Funnily enough, he bought that wand I've been trying to sell," His words ring in my head like the sound of a freight train.

Shaky legs move towards me as his body falls into me. We fall to the floor in front of the lit fireplace. Sniffles come from him as I hold him tightly. I pick up the foto of Father's wife and son from the floor. They sat in Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, smiling and laughing.

*It's not your fault,* I sign to him as I finally take the glass he's been nursing.

"How can't it be? I sold the wand that killed them! I sold the wand that killed them all! Every muggle, every muggleborn, every 'blood traitor' that died; All of them, every blood spilled in the war!" He yelled in pain, moving back into my arms. I could only stroke his back as his tears wet my shoulder.

I can't do anything else. Not say anything, not shush his worries, not tell him in a German accent that everything's not on him; all because of the rune on my body put there by the very people, the very family that took his. I don't deserve to be here, don't deserve the freedom that he gave me. Don't I remind him; remind him of the people that took his family? How can I even call him Father when my blood took the boy that used to call him Dad?


	5. The Hogwarts Express

"You're acting like you've never seen a wand before," Zack's Irish lilt doesn't even shake my gaze from my 15 inch wand. My left hand grips the semi smooth handle as my right traces the rest. As you move away from the handle, the Beech wood warps and develops groves like veins till they wither away and one is left to be a rounded point.

It's extreme flexibility shows as the tip twirls with my finger. The car continues to rumble as it continues it's trek to King's Cross station. Father has had this car for a while. Father doesn't Apparate if he doesn't have to so he bought a car for more long distance travel, that and his mild interest in muggle tech. Without looking away from my unicorn hair wand, I put my hand out to silence Zack, who really wanted to come.

"You can admire it on the train. It will look weird if muggles look though the window," Zack tells me as I begrudgingly put my wand in my pants on my thigh in absence of pockets or a wand holster. Zack decided to wear a grey flat cap, brown suit coat, dark blue jeans, and a white button-up.

*Tell Father he didn't need to drive me,* I sign to Zack, knowing he had to close the shop. Zack only gives me the side eye as he relays the message to Father.

"Don't be ridiculous! I'm your Dad, of course I would want to see you off for your first year at Hogwarts!" Father lectures as he stops at a stop light. "Are you sure your parents are okay with you coming with us?" Father asks Zack, clearly worried they'd try to arrest us for kidnapping.

"Don't worry! They've given up on trying to stop me from hanging out with Catlyn. They've almost given up on the ridiculous idea that Catlyn's a vampire," Zack tries to ease Father's worries. His family doesn't have a high opinion on 'blood traitors', coupled with my appearance and you could see why it used to be difficult to hang out. If Zack knew what I was then maybe he would listen to his parents.

As the ride continues, fear begins to plague me. What if the sorting hat doesn't put me in a house? Can that even happen? I'm going to make a fool of myself aren't I? I mean, Father taught me basic stuff, both wizard and muggle but what if that isn't enough? What if people find out I'm a vampire? Air seems to elude me as worry stabs at my brain over and over again.

"It'll be fine mate," Zack soothes as the station comes into view. Concentrating, I slowly breath in and out. The rumble of the engine halts as I rush out for fresh air, only to be hit with a different type of attack. A migraine forms, ponding on my head with a steady beat. The sound of the people's heartbeats in the crowd join the thumping in my head. My teeth ache, just begging to puncture flesh. Barely making it out of the Benz, my legs seemingly lose all energy as I fall back into my seat.

"Shh, your ok, your ok. I'm here for you, I'm here," Zack comforts during my 'panic attack', embracing me as I struggle not to rip my mask off and sink my fangs into his neck. I reach for my music player to calm me down only to find an empty pocket. Cursing Hogwarts for messing up electronics, I push all other thoughts out of my mind and focus on my breathing. The heartbeats fade as my headache heals.

*Thank you,* I sign to Zack as I look around to see Father, brow trickled with sweat, holding my trunk and Maxi on Zack's side. *And thank you Maxi,* I sign to the dog as I rub his head. Maxi's a Crup with brown fur on her back and around her eyes. I look at her butt to see if her forked tail is still hidden by the spell that Zack furiously tried to learn so that he didn't have to cut her tail off. Father asked me if I wanted a pet but I said no, not wanting another thing around I could be tempted to feed off.

"How can you lift that?" Zack asks in shock of my freakish strength as I take the trunk from Father after give him a reassuring look. I look at the trunk in my hands, remembering the mass of school supplies and extra books in it, and shrug as we head into King's Cross.

"Which platform is your train?" Zack asks as I hand the train ticket to him only to see confusion fill his face. "You taking the mick?" I only shrug, as confused as he is, as we follow Father through the train station. Realizing how suspicious I am, I grab a trolley and put my trunk into it. I fiddle with my train ticket that says platform nine and three quarters.

"I'll go first," Father tells us as he calmly walks into a wall, only for him to slip right through it. I release a breath I didn't know I was holding in.

"Together?" Zack asks me as he holds out a hand, hiding his nerves. I nod as Zack, the Jack Russell Terrier looking dog, and I walk to the wall. Closing my eyes, I wait for my trolley to smash against the wall, only for it not to. As we walk, a tingly sensation passes through me as the hair on the back of my neck stands up. Slowly, I open my eyes to the sight of a far less crowded platform holding a scarlet steam engine. I look around in pure delight as my eyes land upon a sign saying, "9¾ HOGWARTS EXPRESS."

*Still think I'm punking you?* I joke as steam pours out of the train. Meeting back up with Father, he embraces me in a hug. Hugging him back, I look up to see his eyes watering. If Constantine was still alive he would be going to Hogwarts too. It's my fault he doesn't have a family. With those thoughts rushing into my mind I push him away, grab my trunk, and book it.

Grabbing my uniform out from my trunk, I put it into the storage area. Looking around, I spot the closest bathroom and go in to get changed. I slip out of my light blue jumper and jeans, and into the Hogwarts uniform. Changing quickly as usual, I look into the mirror for any showing scars.

The uniform consists of a grey knee high skirt, button up long sleeved white blouse, grey sweater with a V-neck low enough to see the black tie, and a black cloak with hood. I slip my wand into my shoulder wand holster that I bought a little bit ago. Guarding the door, I put my mask back on. A silent yawn escapes me as I exit the bathroom. I didn't get much sleep last night due to the nightmare I tried to avoid.

Sleepily, I go back to my trunk to grab Animal Farm and head to a compartment near the back of the train. Getting to the train so early has its advantages, I think as I have my pick of compartments. I carefully open my book, remove the bookmark, and begin to read. My fight to defeat sleep lost as my body succumbs to fatigue.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Still afraid of affection huh," Zack states as we watch Catlyn run into Hogwarts express.

"No, it's not that," I say, wiping the tears out of my eyes as Maxi tries to comfort me.

"Then what is it?" Zack asks, still not taking his eyes off Catlyn.

"Don't tell her I told you this. I got Catlyn a little before Morgen and Constantine died. She's never told me this but I know she blames herself for them dying, thinks that she's living the life Constantine would be," I tell him truthfully, I mean I left out the part about her being a half-vampire and her biological mom being the sister of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named but it's basically the truth.

"That's our self-deprecating Catlyn, thinking she killed her family because she's a muggle born. Although, I wish she wasn't," Zack sighs as he leans down to pet Maxi.

"We can't fix her or make her better. All we can do is be there for her and stop her from going over the edge."

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Harry Potter," chorused the twins.

"Oh, him," I said. "I mean, yes, I am."

The two boys gawked at me, causing the unmistakable feeling of turning red. Then, to my relief, a voice came floating in through the train's open door.

"Fred? George? Are you there?"

"Coming, Mum."

With a last look at me, the twins hopped off the train. Coming back to my compartment, I realize that it isn't empty. For an extremely small girl, already in uniform, sleeps in the corner against the window. Looking at Hedwig, I notice the look of discomfort and fear. Noting that, I move him to the opposing seat. This has got to be the strangest looking wizard I've met. I think as I sit across from her and look closer at her.

The bottom of her face is mostly covered by a black mask but soft facial features still shine through. Her stick straight white hair contrasts greatly against the black uniform, as does her deathly pale skin. An open book sits in her lap as she stirs a little. At least I'm not the only abnormal wizard, is my final thought as I realize that, half hidden, I could watch the red haired family.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Cackles fill the poisonous air of the dungeon as red crackling light fills the room. At least she decided not to use knives tonight. Or is it day? Well that's been a meaningless concept since my conception. I mean, sure the red curse is more painful but at least it doesn't leave marks. The pain fills my body like a thousand little pins stab my body at once. My cry's go unanswered and only seem to infuriate her.

"Although I love to hear you scream, today I have a headache so quiet down!" She yells as she lets off another red stream of light. This time, a chilling heat fills my body, making it feel like an intense freeze blasts my body. Rather than fight off the pain this time, I focus on keeping my mouth shut.

"That's better!" Her sweetly poisonous words ring as the curse subsides, letting me catch my breath. "Oh no you don't," She grins, realizing that she allowed me to get a rest. This time the curse hits me with less creativity. Just pure, unbridled, pain. My eyes roll back as my body convulses.

"It's your father's fault you were born! If he didn't stupidly think he could get away with defiling me then you wouldn't exist! And now, He's roasting in Hell! But that's too good for you. Oh no, I'm going to savor killing you! Day by day, year by year! After all, I'm the one that brought you into this world; I'm the only one that's allowed to take you out of it!" Her threats ring in my ears as a shriek breaks through my lips, filling the room till my ears ring.

"Now you did it!" Her curse breaks as she taps her wand to her chin. "I know the perfect way to fix that!" even her cheerful voice is coated in fury.

"Lucius, Come down here with that tool we've been working on!" She yells through the door, Causing the sound of faint scrambling to come from above. Oh how I dream of knowing what's above. Is the entire world this mix of light and dark? Or is it like those candles that they bring down here? Full of bright yellow light. My thoughts are cut off by the door of my prison opening. Stepping through the door, a man in a black suit and faded platinum blond steps though with a medal stick.

"Took you long enough!" She spits at him as he moves closer to me.

"Please forgive me," He says to her, giving me a glance, as he kneels down, offering the stick with the glowing end to her. She merely waves him off as she gets closer to me. Grabbing me with her free hand, she pulls the metal stick back. The metal stick's glowing end is circular with a line through it.

"This is a special invention I made just for you. A rune embedded into you so I never have to hear any sound come out of that disgusting mouth ever again," I don't struggle as the stick plunges it into my skin. Her cackle's slices through the air as my flesh pulses with heat.

The nightmare is slapped out of me as I'm jostled awake.

"You okay?" A boy's British accent asks. Vision clearing, I look around. Next to me is a red haired boy, clearly my age and a Weasley. Across from me sits a boy and his white owl. The small boy, although taller than me, across from me has black, untamed hair, and green eyes hidden with broken circular glasses.

I know this boy. I've memorized this face and scoured the news for all information on him, on the boy whose family was ruined by mine; Harry Potter. Why does he look so concerned? I bring my hand up to my mouth only to brush against my mask and, to hide my intentions, moved my hair behind my ear.

Does he know? Know that my uncle, no, my blood killed his family, made him an orphan, and gave him that scar hidden behind his bangs? Seduced his godfather to betraying his family? Killed many of his parents friends?

Looking around the compartment, my eyes are drawn to the red haired boy cowering in the corner. His eyes dart around the compartment, like a caged animal. He knows! This isn't just my fears but the truth. I can't help but stare at Harry, no I don't deserve to call him that, Potter as his eyes soften and he begins to squirm. Why would he sit with me?

"Well uhh, you see you looked like you were uncomfortable while you were sleeping," Potter explains as the memory flashes through me again. My breath begins to quicken as my palms sweat and water glistens from my face. Trying to hide my fear, I quickly bookmark my place in Animal Farm as I speed out of the compartment and against the wall beside the door. Slowly, I slip down and move into a kneel.

"Where are you going?" I can hear the boy, probably the Weasley, ask.

"Going after her," Potter responds.

"Mate, that white hair and red eyes, she's totally a vampire," Weasley tells him, emptying the feeling from my feet to my core.

I break into a run through the hall, salty water clouding my vision as I run into something. Looking up, I see golden soft eyes staring down. Fear clouds my judgment as I move into the bathroom.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

*I'll try to hunt down the cart for you bro,* I tell Ced as I side open the door and enter the hallway. A small and fast girl crashes into me, only to fall to the ground. Staring down, the white haired red eyed girl only looks up to me, Her cold eyes now had a spark of emotion and grief. Like trapped pray, she scampers to her feet and speeds into the bathroom. I know her. Where do I know her? Oh yeah! She's the rude girl from the bookstore.

Leaning on the bathroom door, I begin to hear muffled crying from behind it. I can feel my hair bluing as the sops continue.


	6. The Diggory

I haven't even been sorted yet and Potter already hates me, great! I wallow as I examine myself in the mirror. Wait, where are my glasses? This day can't get any worse. By this point my tear ducts have dried up so the only tell of my sorrow is the bloodshot eyes staring back at me. Yes! Now I look more terrifying!

Letting a long breath out, I brace myself as I slowly leave the bathroom. My situation dawns on me as I realize the weight of my predicament; I left my book in the compartment! What am I going to do? Go back? No I can't, they both already suspect that I'm a vampire. I'll get it when we're leaving the train.

The relief of my decision washes over me only to be cut short as another question comes to the surface, where am I going to sit? I doubt there are any compartments empty at this point.

"Are these yours?" A sweet American accent asks. Looking around I find the girl from the bookstore, standing in a compartment door frame, holding my glasses out to me. I snatch the glasses away from her as I turn to escape, only for her words to block my path, "Do you need somewhere to sit?"

I stop and turn with an eyebrow raised. Why would she ask that? Doesn't she hate me for how rude I've been to her? Does she want to make fun of me? If so, then why'd she give me my glasses? Wouldn't she have taken them so I would have to get in the compartment? 

Eyes narrowing, I start examining her. Her golden brown hair seems to look a little faded and her gold eyes have a hint of blue. Her uniform is a black cloak, a black skirt a little shorter than mine, and a white button up top with a black bow for a tie. That's it, no warm knee high socks or comfy sweater. She's going to freeze out there! I nod in amazement of being asked to sit with someone, what's her angle?

A wide smile appears on her face as the hint of blue in her eyes disappears and her long amazingly straight hair regains its color. "Great! come on in," slight puzzlement hides behind her smile as I follow her into her compartment. My eyes are immediately drawn to a rodent cage on the seat next to the door. The girl moves to open the cage as a light brown blur runs up her arm and onto her shoulder. The girl giggles as she pets the creature on her shoulder, slowly sitting down next to the cage.

"Michael, what's got you all freaked out?" She asks the animal as she rubs her pinky on his forehead. Looking closer, I realize that Michael's a small brown Hedgehog, "You can sit down," She tells me, gesturing to the spot across from the one she already sat down at. I oblige as the realization that I haven't introduced myself becomes as prominent as all the blue veins visible through my translucently white skin.

'Hello, I'm Catlyn Ollivander sorry for not telling you sooner, I'm mute,' My hands slightly shake as I quickly write the apology. She winces a little as I turn the notepad over to her.

"I am so sorry for being rude! If you don't mind me asking, how did it happen? I mean, if your vocal cords are damaged or gone you could regrow them? I'm Leanne Diggory by the way," she apologies, moving around so much that it forces Michael to jump for safety.

Do I want to show her? What if she makes fun of me? She seems like the popular type so this is important. I really shouldn't. I mull it over as I look into Leanne's puppy dog eyes, causing me to cave. I slightly pull down my tie and unbutton a few buttons on my top as a look of confusion washes over Leanne, only to change to understanding and the horrendous look of pity.

"Does it hurt?" Leanne unexpectedly asks. Red light fills my vision as I'm taken back to the nightmare years ago. I only manage a shaky nod as I think about the sharp pain that has followed me all these years.

'Wait, you're a Diggory? I didn't know they had a girl my age,' I ask, confused by her American accent and the lack of seeing her in the shop.

"You know my family?" her shock puzzles me. I mean, the Diggory's aren't that well known but they're still a predominant wizarding family.

'I help out at my father's wand shop so I've seen most of the first years, I don't remember seeing you in,' My response seems to satisfy her curiosity.

"My mom only married Amos very recently and I got my wand back, how do you guys say it? Over the lake?" She explains, flooding me with curiosity as she takes her wand out from her sleeve. As quick as a cat, I pounce to get a better look at her wand.

I've never seen an American wand before. The dark brown wand is much thicker than ours, and there doesn't seem to be much of a difference between handle and the stem, aside for a spherical guard. Is this nine inches? Very short for someone of her height, and she has a very loud personality; very interesting.

'Adler wood?' I ask her as I jump back to my seat with her wand.

"Uh, yes," she tells me hesitantly. Makes sense for her personality. Very on the nose.

'What's the core? I don't recognize it,' my question brings a smile to her face and causes her eyes to glitter.

"It's a Horned Serpent horn," My eyes dance around the wand that bends in my hands. As my mind turns to the history of the rare core I realize my actions. Quickly, I shove the wand back to her as red blush burns on my cheeks.

'Sorry, I get too excited sometimes when it comes to wands,' I hide behind my notepad as I hear a light chuckle come from Leanne.

"It's fine," Leanne brushes off as the door slides open.

"Excuse me, have you seen a-," a short boy, about a head taller than me, steps in only to stop his sentence mid way as his eyes lock with mine. Beads of sweat trickle down his forehead as his brown pupils go to pin-pricks. In a flash, he closes the door and speeds away.

I turn to apologies for scaring him off only to see Leanne's hair a blazing red and the same for her eyes. A wave of hunger attacks me as the door's glass explodes. A pit in my stomach forms as the need for... something crawls up my back. My hands ache as my eyes slide over into "vein vision". The familiar sight of veins is joined with a weird multi-colored energy filling the room. Amazement of the new experience overpowers the need as I tilt my head and squint through my cracked glasses.

The sound of heavy breathing comes from Leanne as her nostrils flair. Her head whirls back to me. I wince and pull myself back from her, expecting a verbal beating. For a moment, the air becomes full of tension as our red eyes lock with each other, only for hers to turn from dark red to pink.

'Guess were both a couple of weirdos,' I joke, earning a chuckle out of both of us.

"Sorry if I scared you, I can't really control my magic or my metamorphmagus powers," she explains only for me to simply wave dismissively.


	7. Welcoming Feast pt.1

"We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately," the disembodied words echoed through the walls, cutting Leanne's rant off.

Even with the full moon peeking through the trees, the warm yellow glow of the candles in the compartment completely overpower the white beams of moonlight. The sweet chocolate air around me goes perfect with the blood flavored lollipop out of my mouth. How did I never know of these! I mean it's no substitute for real blood but it's still pretty good.

"Allb breudy?" Leanne questions, pushing her words through the chocolate frog in her mouth. I stifle a laugh as I take the blood flavored lollipop out of my mouth, careful not to choke on it. I'm so glad she didn't ask to try the 'Popping Lollipop', as I pretended it was, or else I would have needed to do a lot of explaining.

'Chew', I remind her as I give the room a once-over. On my side held some muggle fiction, this and next year's school books taken out of my two trunks that were rescued from Potter's compartment.

On the other hand, Leanne's side was a whirlwind of Trevor's bedding from him running all over the place, candy wrappers, and random school supplies around when she double checked she had everything.

"I leave for just a little bit and ya make a mess ota it," A cool voice, just a hair under deep, jokes as he enters. Peering through the wall of books I've built, a narrow gap allows me a look at the person belonging to the voice. His frame stood tall and strong, his short brown and eyes have a warmth to them, the same as Leanne's. The yellow accents of his uniform ease the prickle in my neck slightly.

"Sorry! I'll start cleaning up now," Leanne speed talks as she starts frantically shoving stuff into her trunk.

"No, it's fine I'll get someone," the boy about a year above me wave's off Leanne's fear as he looks around the hallway. "Penelope! Can you help me with something?" He yells to someone to the left of him. A blond Ravenclaw with a Prefect badge comes into view.

"What's wro- nevermind," She asks only to look into the library at my side and the mess of Leanne's.

"Would you? I don't think I could handle a spell that complex. I can do the books," the boy charms. With his charisma a werewolf would do his bidding. I slightly chuckle to myself as Leanne gives Penelope the side eye.

"Fine, but I'm not doing this for you; I'm doing this for our first year," She motions to Leanne as she tries, and fails, to will an invisibility charm on herself. "Hi nice to meet you, I'm the fifth year Ravenclaw Prefect, Penelope Clearwater," she warmly greets Leanne as she takes her wand out of her sleeve.

With a flick of her wand, she sends the rappers into a ball at her feet, makes Trevor fly with his bedding into his cage, and neatly packs Leanne's trunk.

"Hey, put that down!" Penelope yells down the hall. "Sorry Ced, gotta go," and with that, the blush filled Prefect runs down the hall. 'Ced'... Could that be short for Cedric? That must mean that he's Leanne's step brother! I remember his wand fitting, it was very quick and simple; much like his younger sister's.

"Where'd you get the library from Lean- I mean sis," Cedric asks Leanne as he finally is able to enter the compartment.

"They're not mine," She giggles a little, "they're my friends. Actually, you've probably met her before," Leanne turns to me, clearly expecting me to give an introduction. Fuck, what am I suppose to do? Do I sign? No he probably doesn't know it, ask Leanne to do it? No that's even worse! Hand shaking, I slowly raise it above the books and give a jittery wave.

"Okay... do you want me to help with your books?" Cedric asks, cutting the awkward silence off as he takes a wand out from his back pocket.

Recollecting myself, I raise up my notepad, 'Yes, thank you. Sorry for not introducing myself earlier; My name is Catlyn Ollivander. Sorry for being rude for not speaking directly to you.'

"Catlyn! You don't need to apologize for that. She's mute," Leanne scolds before explaining the situation to Cedric.

"Oh sorry for being rude, I didn't realize. Wingardium Leviosa!" The books make a loud thump as they fly through the air and neatly stack in my trunk. Shock flashes on his face only for pity to fall like a certainty as glances down for a second at me. I look down to see that my shirt is still unbuttoned, leaving my brand visible. A sharp inhale sucks air into my nose as I quickly fix my uniform.

"Isn't that-" Cedric's question gets cut off mid way as the train jerks to a halt. I thank Merlin for the escape as we make our way out of the compartment. As Cedric opens the door, the scent of warm bodies fill me as it knocks me over in an electrifying shock of hunger.

"Catlyn?" Leanne calls to me as she moves closer. Feeling the pulse of my eyes glowing and the itch of my fangs, I push Leanne back, making sure to keep my face covered as I curl up into a ball. The itch of my fangs spread to my teeth, mouth, and even my hands. The feeling of soft skin being punctured fills my mind as my entire body itches to be let free, to feast.

And something new enters my mind. A constant desire to eat... nothing, or nothing tangible at least. It's like I'm in a sea of blood, swimming in it but I can, or at least I shouldn't, succumb to it. Biting my cheeks, I force myself through the pain as I suck out my own blood until the urge subsides.

"Are you okay?" Worry raps the words coming out of Cedric's mouth as I'm finally able to understand my surroundings. Looking up, I find myself in a ball, on the floor of a small, dark, train station with Leanne and Cedric kneeling over me. Leanne's cheek seems to be swollen and her hair is definitely faded.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Catlyn?" I wearily ask over the crowd outside of the door, causing Cedric to close the door. I start to move closer to her, wanting to comfort the almost feral look in her eyes, only for her arm to come sweeping, knocking me back with a surprising amount of force.

"What did you just do!" Cedric asks, wiping around at Catlyn with fire in his eyes.

"Wait! It's not her fault, somethings happening, get back!" I yell in response, putting myself in between her and him.

Looking back at her, She seems to have curled up into a ball. Her entire constitution seems to be shaking like a building during an earthquake. "What should we do?" I ask in desperation, looking at Ced as I can feel the color drain from my hair and eyes.

"Uhhh... I'll slowly approach her. If she doesn't attack I'll move her outside, it might do her some good to be in the fresh air," Ced answers as I look back at the cowering Catlyn, I nod as I move to the side. With caution, Ced approaches Catlyn only stopping when she makes a sudden movement. He carefully touches Catlyn only for her not to attack.

He waves me over as he cradles her, "Did she say anything about this?"

I shake my head as we begin to exit the train, "No, although from what I do know about her, she hasn't had the best life."

"I'd say. That burn on her chest? That's a silencing rune, it's for making sure sound doesn't escape something. Whoever did that to her never wanted her to be able to make a nose ever again."

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Shakily, I nod as I look around for my notebook. With some difficulty, I manage to get them to give me my notebook.

'Sorry for bothering you, I have a weak constitution and have anxiety attacks,' I lie. Well it's not much of a lie, I mean sure the first part is completely false but the second one happens from time to time. 'Did I hurt you?'

"No you didn't and it's fine. Are you feeling up to moving? Because we need to catch up to the others," Leanne asks as Cedric gives her the side eye. I simply nod as they help me to my feet.

"Let's hurry," Cedric says as we start speeding out of the cobblestone station, and onto a narrow path through the moonlit forest with Cedric taking the lead, Leanne following behind and holding my hand. I scan the area, making sure we don't get attacked as we hear a voice in the distance.

"jus' round this bend here," the heavy Scottish voice says as the trees open to a dock. Across the lake stands a massive castle of stone. It's walls, windows, towers, just exude magic.

"Un' who migh' you be? Cedric? Ye' do know yer suppos' to be on the carriage?" A massive man with a thick long hair beard approaches us.

I lock eyes with him and we both immediately know who each other are, Rubeus Hagrid, the half giant expelled from Hogwarts and the current groundskeeper; And Catlyn Ollivander, the daughter of Laichm Riddle, half vampire, adopted daughter of Garrick Ollivander, and first year at Hogwarts. I researched all the hybrid staff before coming.

"Yeah... Catlyn, the white haired girl, was having a panic attack so me and Leanne, the," He stopped to look over at Leanne, "brown haired girl, helped Leanne. I had to escort them over here."

"I see," Hagrid strokes his beard in with his massive hand, "It's fine I suppose. No more'n four to a boat!" He yells to the rest of the students as he makes his way to an empty boat.

"Let's go!" Leanne squeals in excitement as she drags me to a boat Cedric already picked out. Still watching Hagrid, a gleam of annoying pity shines in his eyes as he glances at me. I ignore his look as I scan the other first years. As I begin to look around, everyone immediately starts looking away, as if I gave them a withering stare.

"Everyone in? Right then -- FORWARD!" Hagrid yells, pointing his umbrella forward, as the fleet of boats begin their voyage across the moonlit lake. Why does Leanne seem to want to hang out with me? Wouldn't it be better for her to ignore me like the rest? Keep me at an arm's distance?

At the head of our boat sat, well sorta, Leanne as she tried to get as close to the water as she could, whale Cedric and I sat calmly, probably for two very different reasons. A soft breeze whips through us as I try my hardest to hide in my ill fitting uniform. Father said he would buy me a tailored one but I didn't want him to waste money on that.

"Don't take it too personally. People are jerks when it comes to anyone even slightly different," Cedric tries to comfort as more eyes linger on our boat. I look to him as he softly pats me on the back. Giving a convincing smile, Leanne bounces her way around to us as the boat frighteningly rocks from her movement.

"Why didn't you tell me this place was so incredible Ced?" Leanne squeals at Cedric as she moves around as if we weren't one wrong move from tipping over.

Looking back at the terrifying water, the lake stays rippleless even though all the boats are drifting through it. I could just see a creature shooting up, and taking one of us over. On that thought, I move as far away from the edge of the boat as possible.

"Heads down!" Hagrid yells as we smoothly glide through a wall of vines and into an underground dock.

"I did but you never heard me," He responds as the boats slowly slide into the docks. "So what house do you guys want?" Cedric asks as we stand at the fringe of students gathered around Hagrid.

"I don't know. I bet all of them are fun to be in! What about you Catlyn?" We start following Hagrid as her question brings a battle from the back of my head to the forefront of my thoughts. What house will I be in? I'm not brave enough to be a Gryffindor, kind enough to be a Hufflepuff, smart enough to be a Ravenclaw, or cunning enough to be a Slytherin. Is it possible I won't get any house? No that's impossible, at the very least I'd be put in Hufflepuff because, 'they accept everyone who doesn't fit with the others.' But would the teachers allow such a monstrous thing to be a Hufflepuff?

Air seems to escape my breath as I desperately try to retrieve it. I dig myself deeper into my head as Leanne squeezes my shoulder. Our journey up the stone stairs ends with us crowding, a little too closely, in front of a door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?" Hagrid's knocks on the door echo's through the underground docks as a stern looking witch in emerald green robes answers.

"The firs' year, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid introduced.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here," She tells him only for her to pause for a moment, studying the crowd, "Mr. Diggory, what are you doing with the first years?" She asks as Hagrid whispers something into her ear. As Hagrid whispers she glances down at me with the same look of pity Hagrid had.

"Excellent work Mr. Diggory, ten points to Hufflepuff. You may join your house now," Professor McGonagall dismisses Cedric. With a final squeeze of Leanne's hand, he exits through the doors.

Opening them wider, we're greeted to the sight of a massive entrance hall with a marble staircase lit with torches all around it. I look around in awe as the group follows Professor McGonagall into a room off to the side of where I assume the rest of the school is. I try to join the rest of them in the room, only for Hagrid to stop me.

"Follow me," He instructs as he guides me to a classroom. Nerves run wild as we march through the classroom and my heart starts thumping like crazy. He looks back at me to reveal his once cheerful expression now sits somber as we walk straight though and into a joining office.


	8. Welcoming Feast pt.2

Hagrid leads me to a door joining the classroom. As his hand moves to the doorknob he stops, pausing.

“Ye know, I was in the same boat as you. Yer gonna do jus’ fine. Dumbldore’s A great man, an’” he turns his head to look at me over his shoulder with a smile that reaches his eyes. “Yeh don’ have ter be ashamed of what yeh are.”

With those confusing statements, He pushes the door open as he steps aside, allowing me to funnel into a small plain office with two chairs in front of a desk. My mouth drops as I look to see headmaster Dumbledore sitting behind the desk, bright purple robes and all, sucking on a lollipop. His deep blue eyes spark with a confusing mix of emotion too complex to understand. His mouth curves, and the hand stroking his beard stops as I enter the room.

Why does he want to meet with me? Did I do something wrong? Am I going to be expelled! I haven’t even started the first day and I’m already being kicked out. Of course this- my thoughts get cut off as an amused chuckle fills the room.

“Don’t worry Catlyn, you’re not in any trouble. Sit down,” he tells me, still half chuckling as he gestures to one of the seats.

‘If you don’t mind me asking, why did you call me here?’ I ask, taking him up on his offer.

*want a loli?* He signs, causing me to jump. He knows sign? Slowly, I ease into a seat and snap a blood flavored lollipop from his hand. For a few seconds we sat in silence as Dumbledore focused on his loli.

The last time I met Dumbledore was when he… Suddenly I’m back, back into that damp room, those cold grey bricks under me, those green candles illuminating my blood soaked arms.

“Ahem,” the grunt from Dumbledore slaps me back to reality. *For your meals the house elf’s will have blood for you. Your Head of House will give you the directions to the kitchen. If you have any problems don’t hesitate to go to any of your teachers, they’re here for you.*

The words play in my head. No they aren't. They’re here for the real boys and girls studying to become fully fledged witches and wizards. I only nod as I smooth the hem of my skirt and get out of my chair. With a quick bow, I leave to join back with the other first years.

The door opening echoes through the room as the quiet murmurs of the other students silence with my entry. Their eyes pelt daggers into me as I quickly shuffle to hide behind Leanne’s back.

“How exactly do they sort us into Houses?” Potter asks Weasley, breaking the silence and cutting the tension like a knife.

“Some short of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking.” Leanne looks at me with pleading eyes stricken with fear. I only shake my head in response as a sigh of relief escapes her mouth.

“Then how are we sorted?” Leanne whispers.

‘A hat,’ I write to her as her eyes narrow.

“How can-” her question gets cut off as gasps fill the room. Following Leanne's I eyes, I look to see around twenty ghosts floating through the wall. Their skin is only slightly paler then mine but has the added benefit of being slightly transparent.

My eyes lock with a male ghost only for it to scowl. Why in the absolute fuck, do ghost’s think their better then vampires! I mean, they’re both bad but at least most vampires don’t choose to become undead.

“Move along now,” a sharp voice interrupts the scowling match, “The Sorting Ceremony’s about to start.” With the order from Professor McGonagall, the ghosts float through the wall opposing the original.

“Now, form a line,” Within a snap the cluster of kids turns into a neat and orderly line, “and follow me.” Gravel churns in my stomach as my legs shakely carry me along with the first years out of the chamber, across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

The millions of descriptions of this magnificent hall seared into my head doesn’t even do this place an ounce of justice. Beautiful candles float over the four long tables holding the rest of the students. At the end of the hall is a horizontal table with all of the teachers. On the tables sat goblets and plates of gold shining from the bright candles. The line shuffles forward until all the first years make it into the hall.

Peering around the giants that is Weasley, I accomplish my mission. Professor McGonagall pulled out a stool right in front of the teacher’s table and put an old, dusty looking, witches hat on it. The majesty of the hall wears off and the stares of the hundreds of people dawns on me. I try to ignore the pit forming in my stomach as I look up to find something I would kick myself if I didn’t find; the ceiling is the night sky.

That’s right, is. Not had a view of it or it had a skylight, I mean actually was an uninterrupted starry night sky. I knew that it was bewitched but knowing and seeing it in real life was a whole ‘nother thing. The few seconds of silence would be unbearable if the students’ attention were still on me and not on the hat. With a twitch, the hat opened a mouth like hole right above the brim and started to sing:

"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
Set Gryffindor's apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuff's are true  
And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
if you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folks use any means  
To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"  
Applause blasts through the room as the hat takes a bow to each table. I don’t join in as I know no matter how hard I try, I could never add to the cheer.

“You weren’t messing with me!” Leanne’s giggles as reality sets in; I’ll have to try it on. Well I knew that but I didn’t realize it would be right in front of the entire school! Air seems to escape me as I image all those eyes inspecting every inch of me, that hat invading the corners of my mind.

“Wish me luck!” Leanne waves goodbye, shaking me out of my thoughts as she basically runs up to the stool. I chuckle to myself slightly as she rips it out of Professor McGonagall’s hands. She’s not even on the stool yet before the hat’s mouth rips open again.

“HUFFLEPUFF!” The hat screams as the kids in yellow accented robes on the right break out into applause. A bright smile screams on Leanne’s face as she takes off the hat and runs off to sit with her brother.

To pass the time I start trying to guess witch house people will get, I was right about that Hermione girl. I start getting pretty good at guessing until;

“Ollivander, Catlyn!” As I move to the hat whispers so numerous and quite only a vampire could make them out hiss like a fire:

“Isn’t that the creepy girl from the wand shop?”

“That creep’s that sweet old man’s blood?”

“I hope she isn’t in our house.”

“Why even sort her? She’s obviously a Slytherin.”

I pretend to ignore them as I approach the hat. Turning to face the students, my creep, cold red eyes gloss over the crowd, silencing the fire as the hat completely envelops my head.

“Wow you're not making my job easy are you?” A small voice in my ear says, causing me to jump a little. Sorry, I think, not knowing how to respond to it. Can hat’s read? Even if it could it would look pretty weird showing my notebook to a hat.

“It’s fine, I can hear your thoughts. Hmm, Gryffindor fits you the least. Same with Slytherin, don’t have the stomach for it. Better be- RAVENCLAW!” Rather than the applause and cheer greeting me as I take off that hat, only silence rears its ugly head as I look to see only distance, annoyance, and fear coming from my House.

Handing the Sorting Hat back to Professor McGonagall I look to see more pity come from her face. Without a second thought, I head to the edge of the table only to have the students treat me like the plague; immediately, the other Ravenclaw's scoot away from me.

Looking back at the teachers I find a mix of pity, anger, and satisfaction. It becomes entirely clear to me that all the teachers were informed of my, how did Dumbledore put it? Ah yes, “condition”.

“Potter, Harry!” Professor McGonagall shouts last, igniting another fire of whispers. The only thing different this time is that the words didn’t have the sharp edge mine did. It was as if Merlin himself walked in. Slowly Potter makes his way up to the stool and is given the hat. With only a few seconds the hat’s mouth rips open.

“Gryffindor!”

The entire school, even the Slytherin’s, erupt with cheer. The Ravenclaws less so.

“We got Potter! We got Potter!” Two Gryffindor’s yell as Potter joins their table. This is how it should be, heroes praised and monsters ostracized. The rest of the sorting and the feast goes smoothly as I sit in the social hole that my house made for me. The hall falls silent as Dumbledore gets to his feet again.

“Ahem - Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.” His eyes flashed to the Gryffindor table.

“I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.”

That put a small damper on the excitement that's been fueling me through the looks, the whispers, the cautious tip toeing of the people that pretend to care; but I shake it off.

“Quidditch trails will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch.” I merely roll my eyes at the mention of that barbaric sport.

“And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.” A few stifled laughs pepper the hall but many, like me, could tell by the gleam in his eyes how serious he is.

“And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!” his voice rang out like pop music with a face lit up like a Christmas tree. Looking at the rest of the teachers, it appeared that the sentiment was not shared.

With a flick of the wand, a golden ribbon flew out of the tip that wrote itself into words. Thousands of off key, out of tune voices sang the letters that sparkled in the air. I simply plug my over sensitive ears until the overwhelming voices die down.

“Ah, music,” Dumbledore said, wiping his eyes, “A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!”

As the Prefect’s gather their House I can feel the pit in my stomach growing as my teeth itch. Control yourself. Calm, calm. Just hold out until we get to the dorms. As the rest of my house leaves their seats, I stay seated for a second to get some distance from the rest of the first years as we leave the hall.

“Make sure to follow closely, for the way to the tower is a bit tricky,” The blond snobby Prefect boy leading us yelled as we made our way down a set of marble stairs. I could feel my brain go into hyperdrive as I tried to memorize all the turns, hallways, weird codes, witch painting to flatter, and a final spiral staircase to arrive at a simple, for Hogwarts, that is, wooden door with no knob, or keyhole, just an iron eagle shaped door knocker.

“Are any of you bad at riddles?” The Prefect boy asked, turning to us. A few people raise their hands, along with a short, well not my level of shortness but still, asian girl who seemed to tremble at the mere mention of riddles.

“Well then make sure not to come to the common room alone,” With that, the Prefect knocks three times on the door.

“What’s so fragile that saying its name breaks it?” The eagle knocker booms, causing a few of the first years to jump.

“Why’d you have to make it a hard one Earl, I got first years,” The Prefect tiredly wines only to get a snort in response. Fatigue beaten back, I set my mind on the riddle, knowing full well that Earl gave a hard one on purpose. Fragile, something being broken. It can be broken by its own name, specifically saying it. Saying… Oh, that’s clever.

Hunger returning, I start taping my foot as the Prefect paces. Come on, it’s not even that hard! Looking around I can tell a few have solved the riddle but just don’t want to tell him. Patients wearing thin, I start pushing my way through the crowd to get to the front.

“What do we have here?” Earl asks as I start writing the answer down in my notepad.

“What are you doing?” The Prefect growls, only earning a glare out of the corner of my eye as I hold the answer up to Earl.

“Ahh, at least one of the new recruits has some brains, Silence, correct!” Earl announces as Earl opens its mouth, expanding until even Hagrid could walk through it. For a moment the group acts as the answer as we just stand there.

"Beginners luck," the Prefect rolls his eyes, pushing past me. I hug the wall as the rest of the group proceeds to do the same. Through the door we're met with a massive cylindrical room with bookshelves almost everywhere and a few huge arched windows hung with fine blue and copper silk. Where there wasn't a window on the wall, a bookshelf would be in its place. A midnight blue carpet hugged the dark oak floor which perfectly contrasted the white marble brick the tower seemed to be made of. Pillars of the same marble hold up a landing so big I don't know if I should even call it one.

The tall ceiling acted with similar properties as the one in the great hall. Glowing stairs peppered in the carpet as well as the ceiling illuminated the room. Dotted around the room are arm chairs, tables, couches, globes, even a grand piano as well as some art easels.

Ignoring the orders from the Prefect, I opt to browse the bookshelves as I wait to watch how students get to their dorms, from what I’ve read it’s pretty cool. The group walks directly across the room to a little inlet of books with a marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw standing it it’s center, reaching out as if offering a hug.

“Girls, you first. Pull down the right arm,” Boy Perfect instructs as a black haired girl obeys. A rumble fills the air as the bookshelf to the right of the statue slides up, revealing a door. The boys do the same except on the opposite side.

Once the entrance to the dorms clears I race to the statue and pull the right arm down, revealing the door. I open the door only to be greeted by a small bathroom sized room with no exit. Brow furrowed, I walk into the room and close the door. I wait for a second for some weird shaking, my insides coming out, anything, but nothing.

I must not have done it right, I think as I exit the door only to be greeted by a soft lit hallway of doors. Each door has a blue plaque with a silver border that holds a number from one to seven, probably year, and four names. I have got to ask Professor Flitwick how that works.

Walking down the hall, my teeth start to itch behind my mask. I really need to get to a blood pack. Walking to the furthest door, I notice my trunk shoved off to the side. Getting closer I notice something different about it, red ink splattered around one bold word, FREAK.

Holding back my hunger, anger, acceptance, tears, I hold my head up high as I carry my newly decorated trunk out of the hallway, and into the vanishing room. Sulking through the Common room, I move to the second level to find more books and desks. Searching, I find couch in a dark corner and, after feasting on a blood pack, sink into it. I let my red eyelids fall heavy, trading one nightmare for another.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“AAAAA~” screams greet me as I step though Earl’s mouth. My head snaps up as I look for where it’s coming from. Searching the room, my eyes lock onto a small girl with white hair restlessly curled on a couch in a corner. Slowly, I move to her. A pit forms in my stomach as the whimpers continue. Her uniform is still on, but unbuttoned slightly, revealing a silencing charm singed into her.

“I need to talk to Dumbledore,” I growl to myself as I wave my hand, sending a blanket to my free hand. Cautiously, I spread the blanket over her. With all my knowledge, my lightning quick reflexes, soundless chanting, wandless magic, I can’t even help a little girl’s voice be heard, protect her? What good is magic if it can cause so much pain and you can’t even fix it?


	9. Hello to all

I've been trying to upload and update multiple sites for my work but it's become too much recently, so I look for witch site has the most views and picked it to continue on with it. If you want to continue with this story then you can find it on webnovel, my username is Clueless59. I'm doing this so that my story is the most consistent it can be and that it's much easier and quicker to update and revise this work. I hope that this doesn't discourage you from continuing to read this!


End file.
